*TRIGGER WARNING*
Looking back, I really was thin.
Horribly so.
When I look at the photos I took, I genuinely feel sick.
Sick that a person could look like that.
Sick that I looked like that.
Sick that I enjoyed looking like that.
Sick that I want to look like that again.
My shoulder bones stick out horribly, and you can clearly see my collar bones.
It's like my body is moulded around my ribs.
And my arms are so, so thin.
I look at it at I hate it.
I never, ever want to look like that again.
It looks ugly.
Luckily I deleted the photos in one of my obsessive storage reducing sessions.
But then I remember what joy it brought me.
Then I remember how much control I felt as the numbers on the scale went down and down.
When I remember these things, being really skinny doesn't bother me anymore.
It wasn't about looks anymore.
Because the feeling of having so much control over whether you live or die, or what you eat or don't eat, is one of the best feelings I have ever felt.
Knowing that eating a biscuit the night before would change my next day so much was strangely exhilarating.
I could change my mood for the entire next day based on what I ate on one day.
It was the most in control I've ever felt.
It's crazy.
Completely insane. I was insane. I am insane.
But it's true.
YOU ARE READING
Skinny Girl
Random*TRIGGER WARNING* Please don't read this if you have suffered (or are suffering) with an eating disorder. It's not good for you, and I don't want to hurt you. I do NOT encourage any of this behaviour. I know how awful it is, but sometimes you just...
